


Graceful Melody

by NMartin



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Asylum
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bananun, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-21 06:59:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3682413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NMartin/pseuds/NMartin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After sneaking in the kitchen to steal some bread, Lana discovers that Sister Eunice likes to lock herself there and sing. Lana quickly falls in love with her voice, and hides in the pantry once a week to hear her sing— until she gets caught.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_“Oh yeah I'll tell you something, I think you'll understand, when I say that something I wanna hold your hand…”_

A soft, sweet voice came from the bakery, a voice that made Lana feel she had nothing to fear despite having spent three months in the asylum already. Her bruised body was fragile now, no memories of a the strong, tough journalist that had entered there looking for answers. She remember having heard that song a month before getting caught exploring the insides of Briarcliff. She still remembered how much it had made her think about Wendy, her beautiful girlfriend— the one she had learned to stop loving after being shown the statement signed by Wendy and a judge, remanding her to the asylum's care. Now Lana saw Wendy as a painful mistake she had loved, the betrayal she felt inside having consumed her day after day.

_“Oh please say to me you'll let me be your man, and please say to me you'll let me hold your hand. Now let me hold your hand, I wanna hold your hand…”_

The journalist sat inside one of the lower cupboards of the pantry, in complete silence and trying not to move. Mary never sung unless she was sure she had locked that corridor’s door and there wasn’t anyone in it— though that day Lana had been there stealing some bread and had had to hide quickly behind some large flour bags. She smiled, her eyes closed as she listened to the song and tried to not to hum along. Mary’s voice was enchanting, an angel’s voice that made lana forget about her confinement. She wondered how could Mary have learnt a non-religious song, or why would she sing it. Maybe when the nun went to do the shopping to the local market she made a stop to listen to the recordings they played in the shops, or that maybe she escaped at nights to go dancing— the thought made Lana laugh softly.

_“And when I touch you I feel happy inside. It's such a feeling that my love, I can't hide, I can't hide, I can't hide...”_

Mary was kneading on the dough, singing softly. The asylum’s bakery gave her a kind of peace that she couldn’t find anywhere else in the building. Being alone there, maybe sometimes accompanied by a quiet, fragile Pepper, gave her a sense of solitude that she used to think about her time in the asylum. She liked being able to help, to heal the inmates wounds and bruises and read to the elder ones that had their sight blurred. Still, she did not feel she helped at all. She could not avoid people going through electroshock therapy, or aversion therapy, or simply to not to be beaten whenever they made hateful comments that were accidentally heard by the guards.

_“Yeah, you got that something, I think you'll understand. When I say that something, I wanna hold your hand...”_

She usually chose religious songs to sing, but that day something else was occupying her mind. _Someone,_ actually. A brunette, short haired woman who had turned all her beliefs upside down. She did feel something for Lana, but she did not know what it was. She wanted to be her friend, to be able to sit down with her and ask her to tell her about herself, to know her deeper. She wanted to be her protector, to help her avoid the awful therapies she had to attend to, to cure her wounds if she did not save the other from the electroshocks. She wanted to kiss her, to know how did her lips taste. For the first time in her life, she wanted to kiss someone, she felt these butterflies that she had thought were a myth. And she was scared, because she felt that for a woman. Jude said it was wrong, like many other people in the country. Lana received therapy to cure it, and it scared the nun that she could end like that too.

_“I wanna hold your hand, I wanna hold your hand...”_

* * *

_“The night we met I knew I needed you so, and if I had the chance I'd never let you go. So won't you say you love me, I'll make you so proud of me, we'll make 'em turn their heads every place we go...”_

A month later Mary sung another song, Lana hidden again in the pantry as she heard the nun sing. She had decides to sneak in the kitchen once a week to just hear her sing, the perfect voice that escaped her thin, pale lips making Lana's heart melt. She had learned to appreciate the smallest things in life as she was in the asylum, from the homemade bread they were served to the unknowing company of the nun. Mary always left the pantry's door closed, but that day she didn't. And Lana saw something that made her gasp.

_“So won't you, please, be my, be my baby. Be my little baby, my one and only baby. Say you'll be my darlin', be my be my baby. Be my baby now, my one and only baby. Wha-oh-oh-oh…”_

Mary was dancing. Her body moved slightly, just a bit awkwardly since she couldn’t move her feet— the nun’s mind was focused on baking. Lana smiled, her eyes set on the other’s body, and she couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle when the nun really got into the song, the volume of her voice increasing dangerously before she moved away from the journalist’s sight. Lana leaned forward, wanting to spot the woman again, and accidentally pushing one of flour bags forward. She quickly went to reach it and pull it to its place again, closing the door. Though it was too late and Mary was already rushing to the small storage room. “Is anyone there?” the nun asked in confusion, taking a few steps forward in Lana’s direction but not seeing the brown eyes that looked at her with fear. “Must have been the rats.” she commented before walking out of the room.

 _Rats. RATS._ Lana couldn’t help but let out a disgusted scream as she pushed the flour bags forward, the doors of the cupboard opening soundly as she crawled out of it— obviously alerting Mary again. Suddenly the nun was on the door, observing a flour-stained, disgusted Lana stand up and shake off the flour from her hospital gown. “Sister…” she muttered, her eyes lifting to look at the nun. “Hello…”

“Miss Winters! What are you doing here?!” the other told, quickly going to help Lana clean her gown and then pulling back to look at her. “Why were you hiding in the pantry? Did you— Did you _steal_ something?” the nun questioned with innocence. It was endearing, but when she saw the other’s hands completely empty she furrowed her brows in confusion.

“I’m sorry, Sister. I came to steal some bread, me and some other inmates were hungry.” Lana told, looking at the nun with fake guilt. She had come just to listen to the nun, but it was better for the other to not to know. “I did not meant to interrupt your work. You do sing really well, Sister.”

“Oh, Lana, I— No, I don’t. It’s just a habit, I...” the nun told, walking back to the kitchen and going back to her baking tasks. “Please don’t tell Sister Jude.” the nun muttered, looking at Lana with worry. Jude did not like when she sang non-religious songs, and more than once she had been threatened to be caned. Mary looked at the journalist and her eyes widened in realisation before she went to take one of the finished breads and cut some slices and wrapped them with a cloth. “Please, don’t tell her.” she begged softly as she gave Lana the bread.

“I won’t.” the journalist promised, taking the bread and hiding it under her nightgown. “And sister… can I come to help you with the baking? It might help me think about something else, and well… I like how you sing.”

“Of course, Lana… come back tomorrow and I’ll teach you. But please, don’t tell Jude.”

“I won’t if you don’t.” the brunette told with a smile before walking out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After getting caught by the nun in the bakery, Mary decides to let the journalist help her with the bread, and soon Lana finds herself falling in love with the nun. In Christmas day, Lana wants to tell Mary about her feelings, when suddenly she is surprised by the nun

_“Hit the road Jack and don't you come back no more, no more, no more, no more. Hit the road Jack and don't you come back no more. What you say?”_

Lana sung happily out loud. She had started going to the bakery practically every day, enjoying the nun’s company as they baked. Soon their relationship had grown stronger, to the point that both of them had started to see the other as a friend— despite their growing feelings towards the other. While the journalist was sure she felt attracted towards Mary, the feelings that the nun had in her heart were still confusing for her. Did she feel platonically attracted to the woman, or was it romantically? Why had she started appreciating the way the journalist moved, why had she started glancing to her body?

_“Hit the road Jack and don't you come back no more, no more, no more, no more. Hit the road Jack and don't you come back no more....”_

Mary continued the song easily as she kneaded on the dough, her hands moving easily as she looked at the brunette woman and smiled. Lana had taught her new songs, songs that she had never listened to nor in the radio— in the asylum there was only one and it was placed on Jude’s office— nor sung by anyone except Lana. Of course, the journalist hadn’t been able to resist herself from joining the blonde three days after starting to bake together, and soon both were teaching songs to the other. Lana taught her the last hits she had listened to before being isolated in the asylum, while Mary taught the other few religious songs that the journalist listened carefully to— despite she did not believe in them.

_“Old woman old woman, oh you treat me so mean, you're the meanest old woman that I ever have seen. Well I guess if you say so, I'll have to pack my things and go.”_

All that came out of the bakery were laughs whenever they were together, and when Lana left to go back with the day room she felt something she hadn’t felt since she had become an inmate— happiness. And Mary, she simply was enchanted by the other’s voice and way of talking, how she talked about her dreams of winning a pulitzer. “One day, Mary, I will shut this place down and win a Pulitzer with a book about it.” she had told one day. Something that the nun noticed was that Lana had slowly stopped talking about her girlfriend, when the first weeks she had spent in the asylum she was always asking for the other woman. Of course, one day Mary discovered that Wendy had signed the papers Sister Jude needed to intern her. “You’ll see.” the young blonde kept singing with a wide grin on her face.

_“Hit the road Jack and don't cha come back, no more, no more, no more, no more. Hit the road Jack and don't cha come back no more. What'd you say?!”_

Suddenly the journalist was pulling her back from the counter she was working on, taking her hands out of the dough. “Lana, what—” she asked, being cut when she felt the woman’s hand on hers, taking it gently as she made her spin. Mary laughed, spinning before making the journalist twirl too as they laughed, dancing to the rhythm of their own sung music, letting out laughs and giggles in between. By the time they finished the song, they were both singing at the same time and laughing.

_“Hit the road Jack and don't cha come back. No more, no more, no more, no more. Hit the road Jack and don't cha come back no more!”_

* * *

Lana had to tell the nun, she had to. She could barely be with her without feeling the need to lean forward and kiss her, and for the journalist it was being a complete torture. Despite it being Christmas day, Lana found the nun in the bakery as usually— even if she didn’t expect her to stay there in such a festive date. “Hey, Mary... what are you doing here?” she questioned with surprise, entering the room and washing her hands before walking next to the other. “Don’t you go visit your family on Christmas?”

“Oh, no. I don’t visit them...” Truth was, she didn’t want to stay in the asylum, and she left at every opportunity she had— though only to go to a small hotel in the country and spend a calm day alone, silently praying or walking through the streets of the town. She sighed, this year she hadn’t been able to convince Jude to let her leave that day. “I prefer to stay here.”

“Why? This place is…” Lana was scandalized, she didn’t understand why anyone would stay there. Lana shook her head and shrugged, continuing her task of making the dough, what made the journalist sigh and simply stand next to her, closer than she had ever been. “I wish I could visit my parents again. They told me to never come back after they discovered that I was in love with a girl, so I packed and went away from home.”

“I’m sorry, Lana.” the nun whispered nervously, finishing the dough. “Okay, time for you to help me.” she told happily, leaving to go to the pantry and take a milk bottle from there and fill a small bowl with it. As Lana started to work with the dough she walked to the back door and left the bowl outside, for the few stray cats that managed to survive in the woods around the asylum. She walked back to the bakery and smiled from the door, watching the journalist smile as she kneaded on the dough. She always looked happy when they baked together. “You always do it wrong, you know?” the nun told with a sweet smile, walking towards Lana and standing behind her to hold her hands on the dough— the journalist gasped, feeling the nun’s front against her back. “You have to be more gentle.”

The journalist inhaled deeply, feeling Mary’s hands guiding hers. Soon she was biting down on her bottom lip, closing her eyes. “I can be gentle.” she muttered, making the nun smile. And then it happened. Usually Lana wouldn’t have reacted in such an immature way, letting out a giggle and blushing furiously. But still, when the nun’s lips made contact with her cheek in a gentle, loving way. “Mary…” she whispered, turning around to give the nun a questioning, surprised look.

“I think I am falling in love with you, Lana…” Mary told, looking down and the burying her face on the crook of the other woman’s neck as she wrapped her arms around the shorter woman. It was an intimate moment that Lana didn’t want to break, and so she simply closed her eyes and smiled. “I’m scared. I had never truly loved a woman, or anyone but God, before...” she confessed in a whisper, looking at the brunette with a fearful look. “Please be patient with me?”

“Of course...” Lana told peacefully, opening her eyes and looking at the other, her mouth twisting into a petite smile. “I would wait a thousand years if it meant I get to be with you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary discovers the picture Lana keeps of Wendy and gets overwhelmed by sadness and jealousy that make her decide to pull away from Lana. What she doesn't know is that Lana loves her more than anything in the world now.

The nun held the picture with jealousy, the image of the woman with her naked body covered only by a white cotton sheet and a cigarette in her hand telling her that she was not the kind of woman Lana liked. She was not sensual, in fact she had hidden her body from everyone under her habit for years. She was not daring, she would not be able to pose like that for a picture, or even to be like that in front of anyone. She was too innocent, and Lana would not like that. With discouragement she stood up and left the fallen picture on the counter, waiting for the journalist to come back from the pantry. When she did, she looked with surprise at the picture as her hands went to her hips, where she hid it.

“It— It fell when you left…” Mary whispered, her eyes not meeting Lana’s as she spoke. It wasn’t that Mary was a jealous person, but what she had seen that day had been something that she hadn’t expected. Doctor Thredson had given the journalist a picture of her girlfriend, Wendy, one that Lana had been carrying with her for a week. Wendy was still important for the brunette woman, Mary knew it. And she felt so stupid, so stupid for having told the reporter that she was falling in love with her. Lana was still in love with her girlfriend, she still felt attracted to her. And it was obvious why. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” she told timidly, taking the baked bread from the oven and carefully placing it on another counter before starting to clean the room in complete silence. Lana helped, placing the flour sack they had used in the pantry and then closing. “Have a nice day, Miss Winters.” the nun told before walking out of the bakery and to her bedroom, leaving Lana standing there with confusion.

_Miss Winters?_

* * *

The following days Mary insisted on reducing their time in the bakery together, finishing almost an hour before they usually did. The journalist didn’t understand why, but she didn’t ask. Mary had asked her to be patient, and she would— despite doubt was killing the brunette. Why was the nun calling her Miss Winters again? Had their meetings been discovered? Not that they did anything more than sing and dance, sometimes talk about their past, but Lana knew that Jude would try to punish them despite not doing anything else. What if Mary was trying to avoid her feelings, what if she was trying to convince herself she wasn't like the journalist?

Suddenly she remembered. The picture. Wendy's picture. And suddenly everything made sense, and she had to see the nun. She had to see her now. She ran out of her cell and downstairs to the bakery, being stopped by a few guards that threatened of beating her if they saw her run again. She slowed down, but only until she turned the corner and then started running again. “Mary, Mary!” she yelled as she crossed the corridor that led to the bakery. “Mary.” she panted, seeing the nun standing there with freshly baked bread on her hands. “Mary…” she sighed, smiling a bit as she saw her blue eyes.

“Miss Winters, what are you doing here?” the nun asked, leaving the wooden table with the bread on the table and then looking down to her hands. She did not understand the urge the woman had to talk to her, she simply didn’t. “Miss Winters...?” she questioned, approaching the woman that tried to catch her breath. “Lana, what is going on?” she asked with a curious, confused look.

“Mary, I don’t want you to think what is not.” the woman told with a sigh, looking down and then to the nun’s blue eyes. “I am not in love with Wendy anymore, I am not.” she told, breathing in deeply and then approaching Mary quickly. “The picture, Wendy. It doesn’t mean anything anymore. If I carry it with me it’s because I need a reminder of who I am, of who I was before all this happened. She’s the reminder of the Pulitzer I want to win, but she’s in the past. She chose her career over me, I don’t love her anymore. I—” she sighed and took Mary’s hand. “I love you, Mary. And I don’t want you to think otherwise.”

The nun covered her mouth with her hand, gasping slightly before a smile appeared on her face, timidly. “You… You love me?” she asked in a faint voice, receiving a nod in response that made her lose consciousness of where they were. Mary leaned forward, kissing the journalist the same way she had seen couples kiss in the movies. It was a sloppy kiss, the nun’s hand cupping Lana’s face and her lips being pressed against the other’s. She pulled back quickly, blushing intensely. “Sorry, I… This was my first kiss, I…”

“It has been great.” Lana told before leaning forward to kiss Mary again and again, sometimes gently, sometimes passionately, sometimes resting their foreheads together for a few seconds as they whispered how much they loved each other and smiled. “I knew you’d be the best thing that could happen to me here.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lana accidentally gets flour all over herself and Mary, triggering a short flour battle that makes both of them be covered in white. In an attempt from them to hide it from Sister Jude, Mary invites Lana to her room to get changed— but their love and attraction end up being a greater force than their common sense.

Two months had passed between kisses and confidential smiles between both women during their endless time in the bakery, taking hours for both women to say goodbye. It was Wednesday, and there was flour all over the floor— although most of it had ended on Mary’s habit. She did not know how, but the journalist had accidentally spilled the sack of flour that was on the counter. “Oh my g— Mary, I…” the woman quickly went to clean the other’s clothes with a dirty cloth, only managing to spread it more and more. “Shit— I mean, f—” she knew how important it was for Mary to keep her sacred clothes clean. She looked up, scared to see the nun upset by that fact, but instead saw her smiling.

“Don’t worry, Lana.” Mary assured her with a smile, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. “I have another in my room.” she smiled and put the cloth the other held on the counter. She then smiled and ran her fingers over the wood stained with flour, collecting the white dust and then turning to look at the journalist— booping her nose and leaving a white stain there.

“Mary, what—?” Lana’s lips parted in surprise and confusion before they tilted into a smile. “Oh, you don’t know what have you done, Sister.” she grinned, her hand going to the sack of flour and taking a handful. Mary’s mouth fell open and she tried to turn away, but Lana was quicker and all the flour ended on the woman’s face. As the journalist laughed, the nun happily took more flour on her hand and threw it at the brunette, staining her face and hair. Soon everything was covered with white, their clothing having lost most of their color under the thin layer of flour. Their laughs filled the room, Lana taking all the flour she could in her hands and smearing it all over the nun’s face before kissing her deeply. One kiss after another, they became heavier within seconds, Mary’s hands on the journalist’s hips and pulling her impossibly close.

“Lana,” she told, pulling back slightly to breathe in deeply. “We should stop,” she told, kissing the other’s lips again, though this time sweetly. “We have to clean this, and get changed, and— Goodness, Sister Jude cannot see your gown so dirty, she will cane you…” Lana sighed, after all the blonde was right. She kissed her lips softly once more and stepped back. She would have to steal a new hospital gown from the laundry rooms, but Jude would still notice it anyway. She expected her to, she always did. What the journalist didn’t expect was the nun’s idea. “Come to my room, I will give you one, then I’ll come clean this mess.”

“Your room?” Lana did not want to keep her hopes high. They had been together for months, and it wasn’t enough time to get the wrong idea. Their kisses had become more passionate lately, that was true, but Lana knew that the blonde wanted to take it slowly. And slowly she would go, after all she was sure she was going to spend her life trapped inside that madhouse. _And Mary is still a nun, for fuck’s sake._ “Yeah, of course. As long as Jude doesn’t know.” she muttered. Mary smiled— that shy smile Lana loved— and took her hand to guide her out of the room. “I guess we’ll clean this later… Where’s your room?”

“My room is in this corridor, actually. When I came here it was a storage room with the gardening tools, but there was no other place I could stay in, so Sister Jude gave me permission to empty it and throw everything away.” the nun explained happily, walking with the other slowly and intertwining their fingers. “It’s nice, I am near the bakery and the front door.” she smiled, finally reaching a wooden door hidden in a corner of the dark hall.

“That’s good.” Lana muttered as the nun opened the door, revealing a small, confined bedroom. The only furniture was a bed, a desk with its broken chair and a small closet on one corner of the room. “It’s…” the woman looked around, not knowing what to do or say as she walked into the room and stood in the middle. “Definitely better than my cell.”

“No need to lie, Lana. It’s part of my vows. Chastity, poverty and obedience.” she told, letting out a sigh. Suddenly the journalist saw sadness in the blue eyes she loved. _Why?_ Mary had entered the room and was looking inside her closet to take her clean habit and a hospital gown for the other. “It was from a patient, she lived here for a few months before she went to prison.” the woman explained as she gave it to Lana.

“Thank you.” Lana told with a smile that disappeared as soon as she saw the nun start to unbutton her habit— action to what she quickly turned around. Starting to unbutton her piece of clothing, she could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. “So, about these vows…” she started, biting her lip. Was it inappropriate for her to ask about it? She was curious about them, specially for one. “Was it chastity, poverty and, uh…”

“Obedience. Jesus went away sometimes to quiet places to pray and then responded in love by carrying out the will of God in his life. So obedience has a lot to do with listening and responding, and that vow calls us to listen. The vow of poverty is to live a simple life, to commit to share our resources and our time and talents within our community and with those in need. And chastity… Well, a vow of celibate chastity is a vow of deep loving commitment. We have the gift of being lovers of God and lovers for the world...” the woman sighed and turned to look at Lana, her lips parting but not a sound going out of them. The brunette was practically naked, her underwear leaving exposed creamy skin full of bruises. And suddenly she could not take her eyes off the other woman, it being impossible for her to stop staring at every single inch of the uncovered skin. She had to tell the woman how she felt, she had to tell her she wanted to be with her, that she wanted to— _sin. That is a sin, Mary Eunice,_ she reprimanded herself. “You’re so beautiful, Lana.”

That comment made the journalist laugh, not as sarcastically as she thought she would but actually nervously. “You are too, Mary.” she told, thoughtlessly looking over her shoulder and gasping at the sight. “Holy—” she quickly turned her face back to stare at the door, her eyes wide. Mary had undressed, yes— but she had not put on a clean habit. “Mary, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to look.” she told, cursing under her breath for having been so forgetful as she closed her eyes shut. Lana did not see though that Mary chewed on her lip indecisively, not knowing how to explain herself.

"Lana, I want to have sex." she ended up blurting out. The journalist’s eyes widened even more, dazzled by the nun’s words. She wanted to ask what did she mean, she wanted to ask what had happened to her vows, but Mary’s words had been clear. “I have feelings for you, and I…” the nun looked down and inhaled deeply, feeling tears in her eyes. She slowly approached the other woman, hesitating a little before taking her hand on hers. “I cannot believe in a god that doesn’t let me be with you.” she added in a final whisper. There were some moments until Lana turned around slowly, her eyes slowly opening again to find Mary’s baby blue ones.

“Are you sure?” she asked, standing practically naked in front of the nun. “I love you, and I don’t want you to throw away everything you have stand for for years.” she told with a worried face, biting down on her lip. She had wanted the nun for a long time now, having touched herself to the thought of them together, but now that it was real she couldn’t help but put Mary before her own needs. “We can wait if you want.”

* * *

“No, Lana, I don’t want to wait…” Mary guided Lana’s hand to one of her breasts, still covered by the same kind of bra the inmate wore. The blonde was shaking, both from the cold air of the room and from the nervousness she was going through in that moment. “We have been together for months, and I have never felt anything like this for anyone. And, well…” she looked down and closed her eyes, swallowing hard. “I guess I’m kinda curious?”

It was more a question than a statement, but it was enough for the journalist. She laughed softly, approaching Mary and kissing her lips gently. “I love you. If you want to stop, if you don’t feel comfortable, tell me. If you want to tell me something, anything, do it. Okay?” the nun eagerly nodded, and Lana kissed her again, her hand moving from the blonde’s breast to her side and then to take Mary’s. She silently started walking towards the small bed, sitting on the edge and watching Mary do the same. “It will be okay.” she smiled and scooted closer to the nun. One hand after the other they were placed on the woman’s cheeks, and soon after their lips met. It was a gentle kiss, without rush. Their lips were parted, slowly becoming deeper— so slowly that the change seemed to be unnoticeable. Still, as they kissed Lana ran her tongue on the other’s lips, and Mary quickly allowed access to the other’s tongue. It felt good, it really did. And as though as the nun knew it would not be the same again, she wanted it. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Lana whispered as she leaned forward to kiss the other deeplier. They both smiled at the kiss, Mary’s arms wrapping around the other’s neck, while Lana rested her hands on Mary’s bare hips. The contact was something new, that made Lana shiver slightly. Mary’s skin was soft, fragile, unlike anything the journalist’s fingers had touched before. The nun was focused on reciprocating each kiss with equal passion. It was as if something was overtaking her, a passion that moved from her lips to between her legs. She wanted the journalist, but it seemed to be more than that— she _needed_ her.

“Lana…” she couldn’t help but moan against her lips, both pulling her close and pushing herself against the other’s body. The journalist easily got the message, moving to kiss Mary’s neck and, gently pushing her down on the bed. She was now on top of the other, pulling back to look at her for a second before moving to keep kissing on her skin, unhurriedly, exploring. Every inch of skin she kissed, every inch she ran her fingertips on— every single one was a synonym of perfection. The nun breathed in heavily, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the feeling of Lana’s lips on her small, not quite prominent cleavage, running from side to side repeatedly, moving up to her collarbone, to her neck, kissing her lips again, repeating each spot so many times that Mary was getting dizzy. Before she could realize it, her bra was gone— _how did she...?_

The woman’s face amused Lana, who let out a laugh as she threw the piece of clothing away happily before she let out a sigh and returned to her kissing task. “Practice.” she muttered, knowing what the other would be thinking. She had been with many women, and Mary hadn’t. But soon, the journalist saw the nun’s face changed. “That’s the past.” she whispered, moving her lips up the other’s neck and then looking into Mary’s eyes. “You are my future. You, and only you, okay?” she whispered. Mary nodded, smiling shyly. “And you don’t have to do this to be it. We can stop if you want.”

“No. I… I am scared, yes.” the nun admitted, letting out a sigh and then putting a hand on the other’s cheek. Her fingertips trembled, as if something made her feel cold despite the heat she felt inside. She was going to lie to the only God, belief and religion she had ever known. But she wanted to, she really did. Despite how scary it was. “But I want this, I want to give myself to you.” she smiled, leaning forward to kiss the other’s lips again, the last trace of doubt she had. She was blushing, too much. She felt so stupid, like a teenager. But with Lana it felt good. “But not because I think that to be your future I have to, but because I want this again in… our future.”

The next kiss, had nothing but love in it, despite it being passionate, desperate to feel the nun’s lips on hers again, Lana realized. And it didn’t feel any different than any other kiss they had shared. Suddenly she realized what it meant, and she was breathless. For the first time in her life, she was making love to someone, and the lust she felt was in a second place. Her lips moved down once more, this time making their way to Mary’s breasts and taking the woman’s nipples between them. Gently, without any rush, the journalist’s tongue moved in circles around them, spiralling until it collided with the hard flesh, sucking softly, going back to trace spirals, kissing them, worshipping one for minutes before turning to the other. And Mary’s moans filled the room, her eyes closed, her lips parted making the most beautiful music they could ever do. The brunette had closed her brown eyes, guiding herself by the feeling of the other’s skin under her fingertips and lips, moving lower to place kisses on the other’s abdomen slowly, then moving her  hands up to brush Mary’s nipples with her thumbs. She was going crazy herself, but for once she was putting someone else’s needs before hers.

Her eyes finally opened as she placed a kiss on the waistband of the other’s panties, alerting her that she had reached a delicate place. Brown eyes looked up at Mary’s who simply gave a slight nod and bit her lip. One had ran down the nun’s body to have two fingers hooking on her panties, slowly pulling the piece of clothing from one side and then moving to the other. Soon both hands tugged slowly from them, exposing Mary completely and making Lana study the woman’s legs, from her feet up to her hips, then between her legs. She thoughtlessly dropped the hideous panties to the floor,her hands going to caress the skin of the other’s thighs as she positioned herself between her legs, her eyes moving to look at Mary and locking with her blue eyes. The blonde’s folds were so wet, so desperately but gracefully needy for Lana. She wanted to taste her, she needed to. And so she did, moving forward to press her lips against her folds, feeling her arousal on them, letting out a shaky breath. She did the same again and again, feeling Mary’s legs relax under the touch of her hands, spreading more. The journalist traced a long lick on the soft flesh, then between her folds, making Mary gasp for air and grip the sheets of the bed tightly before letting out a loud moan.

“Lana…” she closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of the journalist’s muscle running between her folds, moving up to finally find her clit. She waited with anticipation, the other’s slow movements feeling eternal, until she was rewarded by wide circles around her bundle of nerves. “Lana…” she moaned again, this time softly, looking down to see the other’s eyes closed as she enjoyed the taste. She had never thought this would feel so good, she had never thought she would experience something like that. The brunette’s tongue moved in wide circles that started to become smaller, more focused on one soft spot. And despite that Mary wanted to learn how to, despite she was trying to memorize what the other was doing so she could repeat it later, it was impossible to think. “Oh my…” she muttered, falling silent as she closed her eyes again and her head fell back on the pillow, her hips moving up to meet the other’s mouth without her realizing her body movements. “Oh…”

Lana was focused on moving her tongue around Mary’s clit, knowing that it wouldn’t be long. She could feel the other’s legs stiffening under her touch, the other’s moans echoing in her ears. Moving a finger between her folds, the journalist toyed with her wetness, teasing her entrance hesitatingly, then going back to move that finger between the other’s pink lips. Finally, it slowly started to slide inside the nun, carefully, not wanting to hurt her. And Mary did not notice at first, being so lost in the action, until she felt the long digit sliding deeper inside, making her gasp and stiffen for a second. She did not last a second more, her own unwilling movement making Lana’s tongue meet her bundle of nerves and trigger her climax. “Lana— Lana!” she gasped, her hips jerking up under the woman’s expert touch. She felt dizzy, amazed, her mouth was dry— but it all felt so right. “Oh my—”

“Shhh.” she heard Lana, who was busy cleaning her juices and lapping between her folds to collect until the last drop, still slowly, without any rush. It felt as if the journalist could spend all her eternity there, taking care of her. The nun rode down her orgasm in amazement, looking at the ceiling as a smile appeared on her face. “Don’t speak...” the journalist whispered, kissing her way up the other’s body and carefully removing her finger from inside of her. Mary’s body seemed to be twice as heavy now, impossible for her to move properly as Lana lay next to her on the small bed, so close that when the blonde looked at her she could see her own wetness all over her lover’s lips. “Are you okay?”

Mary smiled and nodded, moving her hand to brush Lana’s side with her fingertips in the most loving, fragile way. “I love you.” she whispered, falling silent right after. Even if she did know Lana would say the same to her, that her feelings would be reciprocated, she felt scared. She had broken her vow, she was not worthy of being a nun anymore— but she did not know any other kind of life. But suddenly Lana was snuggling against her, her slightly sweaty body giving her the warmth and safety she needed so much in that moment. She closed her eyes, breathing in and out peacefully. When Lana looked at her again, the nun was already asleep.

“I love you too.” she whispered, placing a soft kiss on the other’s shoulder before burying her face on her shoulder. It would be hours until someone looked for her to punish her— and this paradise was worth unleashing Briarcliff’s hell.


End file.
